Page 87 of Everything But the Earl
“No need to worry about that now.”
“I would like to lie with you again. But I meant to say, I need a little more time.”
“That is all right. I will wait for you to be ready. I am not in a rush.”
Grace balked. “Do you not want me?”
Oh. Perhaps he’d been too hasty in telling her he would wait. “Ofcourse I want you. All I thought about when I was in London was being with you again. At least I can say that, when Dafydd was conceived, you and I were enjoying each other. I would of course love to do that again very soon. I merely meant, I do not wish to push you into doing anything you are not ready for.”
“The worst part about all of this is that you are a kind-hearted man, Owen Thomas, and I will spend the rest of my life trying to be worthy of you.”
“You are worthy, Grace.” He kissed her again, but somewhere in the distance, he heard the baby cry. “Oh, perhaps he is feeling left out.”
Grace let out a watery laugh. “Impeccable timing.”
“What do you suppose he wants? Is it mealtime? Does he need a fresh nappy?”
“It’s likely one of those.”
“Do you see how quickly I learn?”
Grace laughed and pushed herself off the bed. “I shall fetch him.”
“I shall help, then.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Mrs. Roberts, thenurse Dr. Jones recommended, turned out to be a woman of about fifty years who was one of the sweetest, kindest people Owen had ever met. She instantly put Grace at ease, too, which is what made the decision to hire her relatively easy. Once Mrs. Roberts made it clear to Grace that she didn’t judge her for taking care of her own son—apparently the other nurse candidates had found this choice bizarre, which had made Grace self-conscious—Grace seemed much more enthusiastic about hiring her.
Thus Grace felt all right leaving Dafydd with Mrs. Roberts while she and Owen rode out to the cottage.
Grace hadn’t been there since Dafydd’s birth, but she’d told Owen she was eager to have him see it. She wanted his opinion on the changes and improvements she’d made.
It had been an odd week. Owen felt like he and Grace were finding their way back to each other, emotionally, but they hadn’t come back together physically. As each night passed, the ache Owen felt being unable to touch his wife became more acute. But he was also terrified of hurting her, and she’d said she didn’t feel ready yet, so Owen kept his hands to himself. He supposed there were other sorts of intimacy, but he was waiting for a cue from Grace.
In the carriage to the cottage, he put an arm around her and kissed the top of her head.
“Sometimes,” Grace said, “I can’ttell how well we know each other. We’ve spent all of six weeks in each other’s presence. That’s so little time.”
“Yes, but we wrote those letters.”
She sat up a little so she could look at him. “Do you suppose that means we know each other well now?”
Owen considered the question. “I imagine that, as we grow older, we will continue to discover new things about each other. I look forward to that, in fact.”
Grace nodded slowly. “Yes. I suppose that is true. And I promised to be honest with you.” She let out a breath. “I found suppliers for my pottery locally, and I’m working with a shop in Penmaenmawr that is both selling some of my vases and shipping them to London.”
Owen understood that this was Grace’s attempt to be completely honest about her work, and he appreciated it. “All right. I didn’t realize there were places locally from which you could acquire supplies.”
“There are potteries in the region. Small ones. It’s not like Staffordshire.” At what must have been Owen’s blank expression, Grace added, “Stoke and a number of other towns in Staffordshire are where most British pottery is made. The dishes in your house? If you look at the stamp on the bottom of each plate, it says they were made in Staffordshire.”
“Oh. I suppose I never gave that much thought.”
“As I’m sure you’re aware, the Welsh like to do things their own way, so there are a few small manufacturers in the region. They have clay available for purchase as well.”
“I am glad you are able to find everything you need,” Owen said. “I love the vase you sent me. As I may have mentioned, I put it in a place of honor in the dining room. It’s beautiful and you are enormously talented.”
“Thank you.”
